


Eclipse

by BrokenSymphony



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Detached and slightly dark Rhaegar, F/M, Gen, Heart broken Elia, Pain, complicated relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:13:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23091628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenSymphony/pseuds/BrokenSymphony
Summary: A one shot on Rhaegar and Elia, the dragon prince and his sun princess.
Relationships: (mentioned) Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Doran and Elia and Oberyn Martell's Mother & Elia Martell, Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	Eclipse

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't bring Lyanna into picture because Elia and Rhaegar deserved one solely dedicated to their bond. More of an emotional story leaving the political implications aside.

Elia took another sip of Arbor Gold, the liquid too sweet for her taste. She was a viper of Dorne, her tongue craved for something sweet, sour and spicy. The bottle of Dornish Red left by her little brother on the nearby rack teased her, Oberyn's mischievous gleam flashed in front of her, “When have you become so dull and boring, sister?” his words echoing through her dimly lit empty chambers.

While her elder brother Doran quickly followed into their mother’s footsteps, handling the affairs of Dorne, her wild little brother travelled to every nook and corner of the world, whereas Elia’s childhood and considerable portion of youth was spent sheltered in Water Gardens, maesters hovering over her, her day opening with a dosage of foul smelling potions and herbs.

Still, her delicate health never tempered her spirit or tamed her naughty side. She always maintained a cheerful approach and could light up even the morose of humans with her charm. She had her share of mischief, Oberyn made sure to involve her in his crazy plans whenever he was at Sunspear.

Alas, those carefree days were gone. She was no more the doted princess of Dorne, she is the crown princess of Westeros, wife of the future king, mother of a beautiful daughter and pregnant with the apparent heir, if spoken in her husband's word, the prophesied prince, a burden too heavy for her sensitive heart. 

Elia felt a kick in her stomach, she was in the sixth month of her pregnancy, sighing she leaned her head on the bed post, a hand gently resting on her abdomen, a painful moan escaping her lips. Her delicate health got worse with each passing moon, her face losing its natural charm, bones protruding from shoulders, dark bags beneath her chocolate orbs, she looked like a ghostly version of her previous self and the mother in her never complained. Her children were worth every struggle and strain.

But the wife, a woman who is in love with her husband felt insecure. Everyone in the realm thought she was inadequate for their perfect prince, her mother urging her to live up to the mammoth task of being Rhaegar’s equal. “Remember your lessons, Elia. No man can resist the allure of a Dornish woman”, her mother would gently chide her whenever she tried to complain the lack of passion in her married life. “Only if you had known my husband”, Elia would mutter under her breath.

Her husband had unusual self-restraint when it came to woman, not because he has a high moral standard which he has but because of his lack of desire for such trivial things. Some of her ladies in waiting tried their luck, oozing their charm and sensuality but couldn't even make her saintly husband flutter his eye lids. 

Sometimes it comforted her that no woman can take him away and other times it disheartened her when he extended the same detachment towards her. Even in a crowded room full of schemers and plotters, nothing escaped Rhaegar’s eyes. But whether he is oblivious to her racing heart or ignorant Elia could never understand. Since childhood, Elia was groomed to be a princess, to carry herself with pride and grace. Men approached her, eager to impress, to win over her. Her husband on the other hand remained aloof and cold and Elia struggled to bridge the gap.

“You are a Martell of Dorne. Swooning like a silly maiden is beneath your stature”, her mother reminded her time and again. Her mother had countless paramours and many passion filled nights. But none of them could make her heart flutter. On the contrary, her fragile health had made Elia embrace the tiniest of desires with open arms, with overpowering emotions.

How can a woman control the blush creeping upon her cheeks at the intense gaze of her man, or her wild beating heart at his gentle touches, the heat pooling inside or the flutter in her stomach at his languid kisses? How can she stop her foolish mind from weaving dreams of a blissful relationship with her beloved? Elia Nymeros Martell though an unbowed, unbent; unbroken princess was still a very sensitive woman at her core. 

First time, she felt it when she met Baelor Hightower, one of her marital prospects. He was a handsome man with a good heart. Elia's heart raced when his lips brushed against her palms, his eyes unwavering from her. Had her mother asked her in the very moment, she would have eagerly accepted the proposal. But the beautiful moment was shattered with the man farting and Oberyn calling him Baelor BreakWind, leaving her in splits of laughter.

Second time, it was when she met her gorgeous husband in the Water Gardens. "Don't forget to breathe", Oberyn had warned her in jest before leaving her to meet Rhaegar and Elia smacked his hand lightly. Oberyn was not exaggerating, Elia thought at the sight of her betrothed. Rhaegar Targaryen was perfection in looks, like a statue carved out of marble.

"Focus, you are a Martell of Dorne", her mother yelled in her head but she fumbled with her words, fidgeted with her hands, she felt nervous for the first time. Elia compensated for her fragile health with her sweet wit and charm. And Rhaegar Targaryen seemed to shadow her in all domains, beauty, wit and charm. The only difference was while her words lifted spirits, his carried a tinge of melancholy. Her eyes gleamed with mischief and his drowned in sorrow. Everything about him was flawless but something was off, Elia was so carried away by his comely company and chivalrous nature that she paid no heed to the missing element. 

"My Rhaegar is a little different, detached and reclusive but he cares", Elia should have backed off when queen Rhaella spoke those words. She should have understood the loneliness that was going to fill her life but even the most intelligent of women forget to use their brains when their hearts have completely surrendered. "I will bring him out of his melancholy, good mother. You will see him laughing carefree the next time we meet", Elia ended up laughing every time she recalled those words. How naive of her, Rhaegar’s mood rubbed on her not the other way around.

Her husband was an enigma she wanted to unravel, a precious dessert she wished to ravish. She memorized every inch of him, the tightness in his muscles, the length of his neckline, the softness of his hair to the width of his collarbone. There isn't a part of him that she didn't touch or kiss yet she remains unknown to what resides in the depths of his broken heart. She burned in his love while he remained frozen in his loneliness. 

They shared everything under the sun, from Elia's first love to Rhaegar's prophetic pursuits; still a distance reined between them. Rhaegar wiped her tears whenever his sire humiliated her, cheered her mood when the nagging court politics drained her, held her in his protective arms when she missed home, his steady rhythmic heart beat lulling her to sleep, sang on her request, never denied her bed, he was a flawless husband just detached and dispassionate. She wanted him with a passion that consumed her; he fulfilled his duty with a dedication that mirrored her passion. 

Many nights Elia would stand at the window of their library in Dragonstone, head leaning on the sill, gaze fixed on her husband immersed in decoding age old mythical prophecies. She would stand till her legs hurt; her heart ached and eyes burn with tears. Moon would shine brightly over the sky, “he never denied you”, her heart sang, “Let him come to you”, and her pride would counter. While a battle raged on in Elia’s mind, her dutiful husband would innocently doze off to sleep, tiredness catching up to him due to the day’s work.

Tears freeze on her cheeks and Elia seeks the pleasure of a paramour. The chilly wind of Dragonstone prickles her skin sending warm tingling sensation across her body, cooling the beads of sweat forming on her brows after the coupling. The pleasure numbs the ache in her heart. “You are gorgeous, my princess”, he would say and Elia breaks into a half broken smile.

“What is your name?” The question drains the color from his face, falters the smile on his lips, he would mumble “Gerold” and the only thing that registers in her mind is that he is not Rheagar. Like a punch to her gut, the sorrow comes back with a vengeance, breaking her soul into half, despair and melancholy engulfing her from within. Everything fades into the background, the man picking his clothes, his gentle words in her ear and silent receding from her chambers.

Some nights she would swallow her pride and visit him. She tugs at the hem of his shirt and Rhaegar would get the cue. The following mornings only made her feel worse. With each passing moon, Elia became empty, inept to feel anything apart from soul consuming grief.

“ _Is he not mindful of your pleasure_?” Ashara asked her once.

“ _More than his own._ ”

“ _Does he turn sour when you succumb to bouts of frequent illness?_ ”

“ _He gets rather worried and even gentler.”_

“ _Does he see you just as a vessel to continue his line?_ ”

“ _Children are important for him. But he genuinely values my council in matters of state and in his plans for the future._ ”

“ _Then what ails you?_ ” Ashara asked in an exasperated tone, unable to comprehend.

“ _He doesn’t love me_ ”, but the words never came out.

They never exchanged stupid glances, stole kisses in the corridor or whispered words of love to each other. Such things were beneath the stature of a crown prince and princess, her mother had said. A bitter laugh escaped Elia's lips, a beautiful lie to cover the sham marriages of royalty, an illusion to shield away from the ugly truth. 

Distant footsteps broke Elia's chain of thoughts, noticing that she was sparsely dressed; Elia carefully got up to wrap herself in a night gown. When the footsteps got close, she realized it belonged to her husband. Two years of marriage and Elia knew the rhythmic sound of Rhaegar's heart to his confident yet smooth footsteps. Elia decided not to wear her night gown, Rhaegar rode in, taking a full look at her semi naked body. 

Elia's heart raced at his gaze and she cursed under her breath for the effect he still has on her. He bridged the gap , gently wrapped his hands, one around her waist and another caressing the back of her neck, his warm breath fanning her face and lips brushing ever so lightly on her right cheek, "I hope you are well, dear wife". He took in her whole frame again, lifted her chin gently up, concern washing over his beautiful face, "Hope our little prince is not troubling you".

Moonlight peeked through the curtains, the dimly lit room mixed with the odd glow cast by moonlight made Rhaegar look like a fallen angel. Elia almost leaned in to kiss him, but controlled her emotions, beneath the dignity of a princess, she bitterly recollected. 

"I am fine, lord husband. As for your son, he seems to be in good mood from the day we arrived in Harrenhal", she chirped in the tone of a princess she practiced over years. 

Usually the mention of children made her otherwise broody husband smile with warmth. They were the only joy of his life apart from his harp. Today he stood silent, not even a gentle curve of lips. It only happened when Rhaegar was extremely troubled. 

Elia noticed her husband, watching his every movement with curiosity and dread. Rhaegar poured himself a glass of wine, sat on their bed, staring blankly at the glass and didn't even motion her to sit. 

Years of handling a paranoid father, abused mother and scheming high lords made Rhaegar impervious to any sort of stress. He would remain calm as an ocean even when calamity knocked at their door step. The last time when she saw him so unsure and disturbed was when he burned his father's spies at Dragonstone. He left them in the dungeons in the third level of the Dragon mount and set fire. 

It was a necessity, though Arthur came forward to do it, Rhaegar didn't want to burden his friend with guilt. He visited her chambers late at night. Elia woke up with a gasp at the silhouette of a man sitting at the edge of her bed and when she realized it was her husband, she sat there dumbfounded. She didn't know how to react. Rhaegar only visited her on her request or when they tried for a child. 

The man who visited her that night was not the crown prince, but a scared dragon pup. "I am afraid, Elia", his voice was shaking with pain, his hands holding hers firmly in desperation. Her husband never fumbled, never faltered, he was the blood of the dragon. Yet he sat there afraid of his destiny, burdened by his legacy. And Elia took him in her arms and soothed him, gently passing her fingers through his silver locks. He trembled under her touch, his skin burned with a fever and his heart with pain. The next moment his lips were on hers, his hands tearing away the layers of clothes. 

“You never came to me for comfort”, Elia wanted to push Rhaegar away, give him a taste of his detachment but as soon as his tears drenched her cheeks, it broke her resolve, and she pulled him closer. He can break her heart into a million pieces but Elia can never see her husband shattered. 

Rhaegar was feverish and scared, unaware of what he was doing but Elia lived every moment of it. His muffled cries, incoherent words, passionate kisses, the burning of people rattled him sending him into frenzy. Elia soothed him like a mother, assuring him time and again, pouring all her love. That was a very fulfilling night of her life where she was a wife tending to her husband and her husband was a man seeking his wife for comfort, not the duty bound crown prince and princess. 

Later the memories of the very night cruelly mocked her how incomplete her married life is when Rhaegar became his usual self. Rhaegar had no account of it and pride held Elia back. 

Elia hoped things were still under control, their elaborate plans of using a tourney to gather support backfired when her good father decided to grace the realm with his presence. She only hoped he didn’t figure out the actual motive, wildlife flashed in front of her eyes and smoke and ash burned her nostrils.

An awkward silence hung between them. Slowly Elia came and sat across her husband, eyes boring into him, her delicate fingers curling around his battle hardened ones. Rhaegar didn't lift his face, his head hung low, with guilt or burden Elia had no idea. Each passing moment made knots in her stomach. 

"The prophecy needs three heads", Rhaegar blurted out. Elia already knew about this, her husband's sole life mission was to fulfill this prophecy and she reluctantly gave her permission to him to have a paramour as a third child can be fatal for her life. 

"I am Dornish, lord husband. We treat true born and bastards alike. We can pass the child as my own as long as it’s right comes after my children, even if it's a boy, Rhaenys should be placed before him", lies came easily to Elia when the matter concerned her husband, her careless demeanor masking the pain in her heart, burying the truth in its depths, "I love you, Rhaegar. I love you enough to accept any child of yours as my own. But the thought of another woman touching you burns a hole in my heart". She was Elia Nymeros Martell, such words were beneath her stature and her detached dutiful husband didn't deserve them either.

“I already gave my stance on this matter when maester Marwyn told us about my condition”, Elia didn’t understand why the topic was being discussed now. Initially Rhaegar was flabbergasted by the suggestion but Elia knew sooner or later, he will come to terms with it. Nothing mattered to him when it came to that blasted prophecy. Elia braced herself for her husband's genuine apology which in reality serves no purpose to pacify her about to be yet again broken heart. 

The words that spilled from his mouth in the next moment were like a knife to her heart, a slap to her face. "How dare you", Elia fumed in anger, hot tears streamed down her face. She violently withdrew her hands from his and stood abruptly. The sudden movement made her dizzy, her heavy pregnant stomach straining her spine further. Rhaegar was quick to hold her from misbalancing, his eyes clouded with concern for her. 

Elia pushed him away, Rhaegar's face twisted in pain and helplessness. Elia wanted to scream, slap him black and blue. He understands her pain yet requests her to willingly participate in his idea of taking another wife .An ignorant husband can be convinced, a naïve one can be manipulated but Rhaegar was neither of them.

"Elia, you need to... ", Elia cut him short with a raise of her hand.

No, she was not going to listen to his twisted theories or great evil prophecies. "I am pregnant with your child", Elia pointed out and Rhaegar had the decency to look ashamed. Elia always wanted her husband's head to be held high, now watching him hang his head low with guilt and shame brought fresh tears to her eyes, “How far you have fallen”, she wanted to say.

Gone were the propriety and grace of a princess; she was a scorned wife about to be set aside and if she was going to burn in hell, she will make sure he gets his share. "I am a princess of Dorne, your lawful wedded wife. I faced your father's humiliation, supported you in your fantasies even though they made no sense since you were alone, almost died giving birth to your daughter, risking my life to give you your heir", Elia held Rhaegar, nails digging into his skin. 

"And I was always grateful to you", Rhaegar replied back, his eyes swimming with unshed tears. 

"Grateful", Elia almost spat, her body trembled with anger. "If I want I can have many men who will be more than grateful even if I do half the things I did for you, Rhaegar". She wanted to hurt him, wound him and break him just the way he did to her.

"I never stopped you from taking a paramour", a slap landed on his cheek as soon as the words left his mouth. Rhaegar's eyes flickered with anger but Elia stood her ground. She was a Martell, unbowed, unbent and unbroken. 

"Is this how you justify yourself? By allowing me to take a paramour", Elia saw through the cracks in the illusion he made in his mind, " Polygamy is a sin, lord husband", she tried to mock him but the expression on his face gave away that he found a loop hole. 

"You manipulative bastard", Elia curled her fists around his collar; "You got a plan. Didn't you? " She pulled him close, their faces inches apart, noses touching, his eyes pleading her to accept and hers pleading him to stop this madness. 

Rhaegar was her weakness, his proximity wreaked havoc to her senses sending her heart into a wild erratic beat and Elia hated herself for loving him so successfully.

A sharp headache shot through her and she stumbled backwards. Elia took the support of a nearby table to hold herself. Rhaegar cupped her cheeks; his thumbs ran circles over her brows. “Anger makes your headaches worse”, his voice was sincere. Rhaegar made her sit; his hands still held hers and Elia didn’t withdraw.

"Give your reasons to Doran", Elia had no doubt that her brother would set Rhaegar straight; under no circumstances he would allow Rhaegar to take another wife. 

"I know a way to pacify him", Rhaegar's reply irked her. 

"Then get it done before Oberyn's spear strikes you", her little brother would stop at nothing when it came to Elia's dignity and the thought scared her, a spear cutting through Rhaegar. But it was not the time to get emotional.

Rhaegar seemed unfazed. Elia wanted to leave the chambers. Dorne will support her; her brothers will never allow her to be slighted. She had nothing to fear, her treacherous heart tugging her not to leave. 

"I will take Rhaenys", Elia didn’t like the direction in which the conversation was going. Their daughter is not some bargaining chip. Moreover she loved her paa more than anything and Rhaegar was indeed a good father. Please, hold back, we need not go down this path she mentally begged him. 

"You won't. You can't. She is my daughter", Rhaegar's demeanor changed, hurt and fear visible on his beautiful face and a hope fluttered in Elia's heart. 

"I can. I am her mother", came her reply. 

"Please", Rhaegar begged. Elia knew she had to press further, though she had no intention of separating her daughter and her beloved father. She just wants Rhaegar to withdraw himself from his crazy plan.

“You can come to water gardens and gladly explain your reasons to her”, Elia took a deep breath, pulled the night gown around her body and started walking out of their chamber. There is no fight left in her, she must clear her head before the mad grief took over.

“I will pass a royal decree that you cannot take her”, Rhaegar’s words stopped her in tracks. She turned around in disbelief. She never saw this side of her husband; Rhaegar was extremely compassionate and forgiving. This is what he has been, Elia thought bitterly, a rotten cold bastard beneath the grand noble prince.

“You long for your mother and yet you wouldn’t flinch before separating your first born from me, her mother”; all the hurt, dejection resurfaced in her heart. ”Did you remember the night you burnt those spies and visited me? You were afraid of becoming your father and cried like a lost kitten. And I told you that you are as far as one can get from your father”, the next words will hurt him, Elia knew with certainty, but the thought of separating from her daughter made her equally cold, “You wish to hear the truth, my perfect dutiful husband. You are a worse monster than him. He burns people while you break them piece by piece till they become as empty as you are”. Rhaegar flinched at the words. Elia found it hard to look at him, his eyes an endless abyss of raw pain, melting her heart drowning her along with them. 

“Can you not see your mother in me, Rhaegar?” Elia shook him, tears streamed down her face, “Broken heart, broken in spirits, broken beyond repair”, and Elia slid down unmindful of the baby inside her. ”I loved you”, she confessed; why she had no idea, not that it made any difference to him. “I loved you as fiercely as my faint heart can dare to love. I still do”, she didn’t spare him a glance when those words left her lips.

Rhaegar sat across her pulling her into his lap, wrapping his hands around her tightly, he mutters, “I know” and Elia breaks into a puddle of tears, unaware of the silent tears streaming down her husband’s face. For the first time in her life, Elia Nymeros Martell laid bowed, bent and broken; opening a crack in Rhaegar’s heart. An eclipse engulfs the moon in the sky casting a shadow on the pair, to let them mourn in privacy.

_If you were given a chance to marry Baelor HighTower and leave your husband, would you have taken it? An angel asked Elia in heaven._

_“Perhaps if I could fall out of love with Rhaegar”, Elia picked her skirts and starting running towards the lush garden. Rhaegar extended her hand and she took it. Did Elia forgive him? No; it was Rhaegar’s turn to make amendments, and bridge the gap. Did he do it? He had an eternity to earn forgiveness and mend their relationship._

_Elia’s carefree laughter rang through the garden._

**Author's Note:**

> I don't want GRRM to take an easy route and make Elia in love with someone else. Rhaegar shouldn't be a douchebag either, leaving her for another woman just for love.
> 
> Didn't get the heart to write the part where he leaves her. Too painful to imagine. Ending is not logical, still I wanted it for them.
> 
> Trying different stories so that I can project Rhaegar not as a villain. Hope I am succeeding.


End file.
